


ain't you my baby?

by martyrsdaughter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Getting Together, Multi, Slice of Life, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22033690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martyrsdaughter/pseuds/martyrsdaughter
Summary: Rowan and Raphael get exactly 48 hours together in between the world going to hell and maybe ending forever.This seems like a good opportunity to ask Indigo to dinner.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	ain't you my baby?

**Author's Note:**

> I find it's easier and less confusing to share fic if it's on ao3, so here goes.
> 
> Thank you to Emily for creating a world that inspires us to write fanfic about our own characters, and to Sam, Jaz, Megan, and Kate, whose characters make guest appearances, and to our lovely #PhoenixFields group.

When she gets her breath back, Rowan leans up on one elbow to glance around the room. She _did_ remember to throw down Honor's Last Stand within reach, as the vestige is the first line of defense between her and harm, but bits of her plate armor are strewn around Raphael's tent in disarray. She grins, but that's all she's allowed before he reaches up to pull her back into the cocoon of warmth at the center of his bed.

"Sorry," he says, all innocence now that she's where he wants her, "that looked suspiciously like moving farther from me. Can't allow it." 

"As if I need allowance?" she asks, laughing in an instant. She sounded suspiciously like Sariel there, though she's sure the remark would've been more forceful if that were the case. "It is good for you, that I agree not to be moved."

"I wouldn't object to making you _more_ agreeable," he says, voice dropping lower again as one hand skirts her thigh. "If you need persuading, that is."

Rowan hums as though it might be up for debate, but it's clear she wants to stay as long as possible. For one thing, she's glowing, like his own personal pocket of sunshine. Holding up a hand, she traces it delicately through the air above his head, as though her hand were a great fish and the air nothing but the sea. "Practically, I am not a good sleep partner," she admits, resting her chin on his chest to catch his expression. "Not when I am feeling good."

Raphael catches her meandering hand, linking their fingers together and pulling her down to press a kiss to her knuckles. "I'd rather not sleep at all, anyway. Not enough time." He sighs. "It's never quite enough." That light from within her soul flickers slightly, and he laughs, causing it to burst wildly. Rowan's face reddens. "What?"

"Most men," he says with that daring half-smile he's been known to employ, "have to read deeply into tiny cues in body language to discern how their partner feels." He traces a path between criss-crosses of Ilmater's ribbon on her wrist, glowing sections bisected by glossy red that never seems to wither or tear, no matter how much fighting Rowan does. "My bloody hero of a woman gets so happy to be near me she lights up like a firefly." He flips them slightly, so that Rowan is on her back beside him and he can sit up on one elbow, maneuvering her mass of curls with care not to tangle in them. 

Rowan has some sort of funny, flirtatious line she'd like to use, but it dies in her throat as she feels his hand brush behind her ear. "Speaking of heroics," Raphael begins, serious but warm nonetheless. "What happened here?"

The tent goes dark all at once. Tents don't have windows, and though it's light outside, it's well-crafted, and very little light shines through at the seams. They didn't need it coming in; Rowan's heart glowed from the moment she saw Raphael. It's only now, in the wake of her memories, that the light is snuffed out, like someone's blown out the flickering candle in the core of her. 

It's a testament to Raphael's character that he doesn't back down. He doesn't tell her they can talk about it later; he knows they might not get another chance. He loves her, and she loves him, until her throat burns with unshed tears she knows may fall in the telling.

"Rowan?" he asks, sitting up and shoving a pillow between his back and the headboard. "Here." He tugs her gently, until she's sprawled across his lap, a blanket of warm skin around her that makes her feel safe. 

Once she's there, with her eyes closed, she can find a place to start. Explaining the difference in time is complicated, and she doesn't really understand all the particulars. More than that, she doesn't feel as though it's her place to share the connection between Luce and Fen. Instead, she talks from when she last had a chance to write Raphael a letter: when they departed to the Feywild.

Going to the Well, where everyone had a chance to speak to their gods. The Queen of Air and Darkness. Luce, though the most emotional bits stay safe in her memory. Learning more about Alexei, breaking down Nemo's agreement with Graeme - she doesn't think he'd mind, now that it's a moot point and he's back with Lysander, whom she misses dearly - and the marks it left. Roxanna, who she wants desperately to introduce to Raphael, an almost-sister she never knew. The Fey, who she's always been afraid to deal with, ever since the disaster with the Unicorn before she and Raphael were ever together. She's putting off getting to the important part, but he doesn't rush her, only makes soothing noises at the right places, squeezing her tightly when it hurts to swallow around the emotions running through her.

Finally, she gets to Merith. To the vestige they needed to find, so that with enough power, they could return Esther to life. Maybe if the others were there, they would remind her that Esther dying is a well-kept secret, but Rowan would trust Raphael with anything. Of course she would.

"Banishment won't last forever. Not on an Archfey while we were in the Feywild. It was just long enough, to help so no one would die. But..." Rowan clears her throat. "He was angry. We denied him Nemo. And he — killed me."

Raphael holds onto her very, very tightly. "Again?" he asks, hoarse and almost disbelieving.

She nods. "Just like that. I hear a word and am gone." She knows that they killed Merith, but she doesn't know what had to happen to get it done. Her memories are... disjointed. Terrifying. An abyss that never ends. "It was not like before. Before, I am dying, but it is... peaceful. I am held safe, in one god's hand or the other. This was different."

Raphael knows what it's like to die, so he doesn't have to question her. "Different how?"

"Nothing there to catch you. Just... falling. Not floating, not easy. Scary, terrible falling, and it seems like it will always go on." She makes a fist and wipes tears from her eyes. "The Raven Queen isn't there to guide anyone anymore. There's nothing."

"But they got you out," he says, then again with conviction: "Of course they did. You're all soaked to the bone in power, aren't you?"

She could let him believe that. She could. If Rowan were not Rowan and Raphael were not Raphael, and they had not built the love they shared from a single, sacred space of honesty. "If Bosca wasn't there," she admits, "it would not have been. Maybe at all. My friends, they did it, but... I worry. I keep dying on them."

His warm hand slides to cup her face. "It's not your fault."

"The one time it was."

"No," he says fiercely. "Being given a choice between someone you love and yourself isn't a choice. You love so strongly, Rowan. That's not a choice at all." 

She takes a shuddering breath, but eventually relaxes. Out of everyone in her life, he's the only one who's absolved her in any way for that day. The only one whose told her, in no uncertain terms, that choosing to save her mother's life was the only choice she could've made while remaining who she was.

As always, with Raphael she feels peace.

"And that... _thing_ on your neck?" he asks, thumb covering the hollow beneath her ear again. "That's the scar it left?"

She nods. "It has to be. It was a spell that... killed me, with a word. Just one. I heard it, and nothing else until they called me back." She shivers. "I would not like to hear it again for anything."

"You won't," he promises, and though it's not a promise he can make, she likes the way he says it. His belief is unwavering where hers will waver, just as hers is strong when his may be weak. Compliments to one another, balancing dual natures in a way she never would've expected.

They're quiet for a spell. It must be approaching afternoon, if not well into the day, but they can pretend that they have time. Just for a few fragile minutes.

"I wish," Raphael says with something approaching ferocity, "that I could help you."

Rowan, who has begun to glow dimly once more in his embrace, reaches up to hold his face in her hands. "You do," she swears. "Even when I can't hear you, even — " she swallows hard, " — even in a world where you were dead, where you died thinking I gave up on you — "

"I couldn't think that. Not in any world."

She takes a shuddering breath. They'll have to agree to disagree, she silently decides. "Even then, I think of you. Mostly, though, I think of what you might be doing. How everyone does in their days. How you feel, if you're telling people or if you hold it inside." She lays her head back down against his shoulder. "Will you tell me? Everything you've done?"

He doesn't deny her, only issuing a warning: "Compared to that, it might put you to sleep."

"It won't," Rowan murmurs stubbornly, though she hasn't slept well in... it feels like months. "And if it does," she says, "You can tell me again."

"Of course I can." He clearly has trouble remembering where to start, but once he gets going, it's easy to fall into the warm rhythm of his voice. At first, Rowan makes all the right noises, even pointing out things he might have missed, which makes her feel proud; she may not be _smart,_ but she can read people's emotions, even just from hearing their actions described. As he moves through time, though, she finds herself in a lull. He's not boring, he's fascinating, really, but it's as though all the wear and tear since they last saw each other is catching up to her.

Her body, at last, recognizing that she's safe. For now.

When she wakes, she's back to lying down, strewn across Raphael's chest. Her hair must be in his mouth before she pulls it away, but he seems to be napping as well, having taken just enough time to cover them with a sheet before giving in. Rowan tries very hard to temper her glow, and she mostly succeeds, until it's nothing but a faint shimmer beneath her skin. Satisfied, she reaches up, brushing her fingertips across Raphael's mouth. He stirs, but doesn't wake, and she feels a helpless smile overtake her face.

She wants to remember this, for the next time she has to leave him. She wants to carry it with her forever.

He wakes when she sits up, though she hasn't gone far, merely braiding her hair down her back with slow determination. Raphael groans and rolls over, wrapping an arm around her waist with his head buried in her pillow.

 _Mine,_ she thinks, startling herself with it. She's never been a possessive person, never really thought of things as hers in that way. But that pillow, she decides, is definitely _her_ pillow. 

The bed has three, actually. It reminds her of something she and Raphael considered the last time they were together.

"Raphael," she says, poking his back. He groans, and she ties off the end of her hair with one of Ilmater's ribbons. "Hey."

"Hmm."

"Did you talk to Indy at all?"

"I talk to Indy every day." With someone else in the Pocket, she might actually feel jealous. Indigo is... unique. When she thinks of Raphael talking to Indigo, all she feels are strange fluttering wings in her stomach. 

She _does_ dig her elbow into his back though, making him cough and roll over. "You know what I meant," she whispers, and he laughs, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out her ridiculous glowing.

"I do," he admits. "I didn't, though. I thought you should be here."

Rowan's stomach twists, neither a pleasant nor unpleasant feeling. "How is she? Did she accept that position you kept trying to give her?"

"She did." Raphael sits up and runs a hand through his hair. It's getting long. Rowan feels a well of fondness growing exponentially in her chest.

"And?" There's a touch of anxiety in her voice. Normally she writes letters to her friends in the Pocket, but with the Feywild and everything else, there wasn't the opportunity. "She always downplays stuff in her letters. I can't tell how it's going most of the time, unless I get a note from Karo or Lace in the margins."

"And she took to it as well as I thought she would." Raphael's face drops a moment, though Rowan can pick up on it being mocking. "Unfortunately, giving Karo an official position means her and Vera are somewhat _friendly._ "

"Fun!"

"No, Rowan. Scary. It's very scary."

Rowan takes her fingers and turns Raphael's frown upside down, until he has no choice but to smile. "It's great for my information highways. Between the two of them, they manage to cover most all the rumors of the day."

"And Lace?"

"Missing Agrona a bit, now that she's taking on most of the training by herself. Luckily, those who stayed behind were well enough into their training that they can help one another." She remembered, between him speaking and their nap, that he'd mentioned they had a training program in place here, before the youngest and most vulnerable went off into the Feywild with the other refugees Alanar was able to take in. 

Satisfied she knew somewhat the whereabouts and well-being of her friends, Rowan returned to the task at hand. "Well, should we do it today? We might not get another chance for... a long while."

Raphael blinked at her. "Sure. Yeah, I mean, of course. Are you sure? I know we talked about it, but I don't want you to think — "

Rowan's hand reaches up to caress his jaw. "Our hearts are big enough," she assures him, "both of us."

He swallows hard. "Both of us," he agrees, and when Rowan gets out of bed to dress, he follows.

It's nice to be able to have new clothes. Garlan is a wonderful tailor, and the red, cropped shirt matches her ribbons, as well as showing off a fair amount of tanned skin near her waist. Raphael can't resist sliding his hand around her the moment she's laced her boots, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

"Good to have to here," he says, "and not just in my head."

Rowan smiles. "Good to be here."

The moment Rowan sticks her head outside Raphael's tent, of course, Karo is there. She's turned away, facing outward and waving off a couple people. "Move it, the boss is getting laid. Ask him tomorrow!"

"Karo," Raphael hisses, stepping out behind her and shaking his head. Rowan bites her lip so she won't laugh. "Does everyone need to know my business?"

Karo spins on her heel and looks at him, all long-eyelashes framing big eyes and sweet, coppery waves that belie her nature. "I thought they might appreciate a warning that you'll be in good spirits."

"I won't be if you keep that up," he argues, but his shoulders are shaking.

"Suit yourself," she says, affronted, before turning to Rowan. "Darling, from chicken scratch on a page to right before my eyes! Alive and breathing to boot."

Rowan grins. "It was a close call. Are you well?"

"Sure." Karo's smile is slightly terrifying. "Chaos, death, _undeath,_ it's all my scene for the most part. Do wish Lace would stop trying to _die_ on me — speaking of which — "

She slinks off somewhere around the back of the tent without so much as a _goodbye,_ and Rowan can't help it, she breaks into giggles. Raphael glares at her a moment before he, too, is caught.

"Never boring, at least," Rowan offers, and Raphael shakes his head. "Come on; a group with a bounty was due back today, so Indy should be in the med tent."

They start in the right direction, but it isn't long before Rowan spots another familiar face: Vera, discussing something quietly with Malice as the drow leans against the shade of a tree. It's dusk now, but Rowan can imagine how little Malice enjoys the endless sunshine Tharizdun has brought to contrast with his darkness. 

She jogs over, Raphael right behind her, and Vera turns just in time to catch the hug Rowan throws her way. She laughs, and Rowan gently untangles a curl from her horn. "Yes, hello, good to see you again too." The _again_ is pointed, but Rowan ignores it in favor of waving to Malice. 

"You two signing deals in my absence?" Raphael asks.

"Of course," Vera assures him, eyes glimmering, "I could forge your signature with my eyes closed."

"Great." Raphael claps them both on the shoulder, and they both make such simultaneous grimaces that Rowan has to hide her face in her hands to keep from grinning. "Malice, I can't actually tell you to behave, but if you see anyone misbehaving, I'd appreciate a deterrent."

Rowan peeks through her fingers enough to see Malice's sharp grin. "I most definitely won't."

"Just excellent," Raphael says as his hands drop to his sides. "If everyone's finished unmanning me for sport, we'll be on our way."

Rowan nods before turning to Malice. "I don't know if I'll see you to tell you everything, but Raphael will share it, okay? I will tell Sariel you are here, as well." She smiles softly. "It's a good thing you all are doing."

"I hope so," Malice replies. "I'm trying to make a business of doing good things, these days."

"Better than the business you had before," Rowan points out.

"Sure."

Raphael wraps an arm around her shoulders and she goes, feeling small without her armor yet also _bigger,_ somehow. Freed. She's worn it so often lately, she's gotten used to the weight, not just of the armor but of danger itself. As the weight of his warmth and closeness fall over her, she finds them far easier to carry, the careful glow beneath her skin turning into a true shine she can't repress.

It draws eyes around the pocket, but people must have heard of Raphael's shiny girlfriend, because they smile and wave often as anything. It's strange, because she knows things are dire everywhere in the world. These people are worried about so many things, but that camaraderie? It's real, and it's powerful.

"You made so much of this, Raphael," she says softly, in awe at what he's done. "It's amazing."

He tugs at a stray curl. "Couldn't have without you and the others. I would be dead by dragon by now, wouldn't I?"

Rowan catches his hand where it lingers near her neck. "So would I, without you."

"Only 'cause you played knight to my damsel."

All she can reach at this angle is a fingertip, and she presses it to her lips. "And I will forever, but I don't think you will need it."

Raphael stops just outside a sprawling tent she assumes to be the medical station. "I'll need you," he promises, bending to kiss her to the sound of multiple whistles.

They break it first by smiling, before they pull away, Rowan in his orbit like a personal star as he drags her inside by the hand. "Indigo! I have a present for you."

Thankfully, it looks as though the group they were waiting on has yet to arrive. The space is as sterile as possible, though a couple cots are partitioned in a private corner by makeshift curtains. Rowan spots her before she turns around; the hair is a dead giveaway, and the light from Rowan's body reflects off the silver, almost dazzling her. 

"Can you not see I am preparing for — " Indigo stops as she spins, her face transforming from consternation and annoyance to surprise and then, delight. Rowan rushes over, nearly vaulting over cots in her haste to get close to Indigo, to hold her in both arms and know she's more than merely words on paper. She presses her face against Indigo's shoulder, whose voice is soft in her ear: "You're back."

The way she says it sounds a lot more like _you're home._ For so long, Bellemar was home, but Bellemar is dead and the life she left there, in many ways, died the second time she did. She can't return to who she was, but maybe she can make something new. She can rebuild something with those who love her.

Something safe, after all this with Tharizdun comes to a close.

It's the first time she's allowed herself to imagine she'll survive that.

Out loud, she can't say any of that. It's too... big. Too soon. "For a little while," she says instead, and there's a tremor in her voice that can't be hidden. When she pulls away, though, she's smiling, and a rare smile is on Indigo's face, too. 

"I heard there was commotion, but I was doing inventory." Rowan grins. That's just like Indigo, ignoring the news unless someone comes directly to tell her, in favor of getting the essential stuff done. 

"What would we do without you?" Raphael asks, voice soft as he steps behind Rowan.

"Die of disease and malpractice," Indigo replies in perfect deadpan.

Rowan goes to speak further, enjoying the tone of Raphael's voice as it slips into something sweet and flirtatious, but a commotion outside interrupts. Indigo's gaze sharpens when she realizes there's work to be done, and she shoos them both away.

What makes Raphael excel in this kind of environment is that he knows when he's needed and when he isn't. He turns to go without fanfare, but Rowan catches his hand, eyes solemn. "I'll stay," she says, and he looks between her and Indigo a moment before nodding. "Find me," is his only direction, and then he's gone. 

Rowan offers Indigo her magic and tells her to direct as needed.

It's not as bad as Rowan's seen before.

Really, for a group of five, taking down a group of Giant Scorpions that moved in with the desert spreading should've been easy. Or at least, it would be for Rowan. It's strange to think that not so long ago they might have killed her. Now, seeing people around her age moaning as she leeches poison from their bodies with a touch, it's strange to feel so old. A couple of them might actually be older than her, but they look and feel impossibly young.

When she leans close to examine a wound and see if it's been poisoned or not, the girl on the cot looks up at her with a rogueish smile. "Cool scar," she says, staring at Rowan's throat. "Someone try and garrotte you or something?"

 _Young._ Rowan was never the type to find scars interesting and cool, but she knew of many who were. She can't make herself hold it against the girl. "Oh, no," she says carefully, "I did it to myself. I had to seal a portal."

Her face drops a moment, then her eyes narrow as she takes in Rowan's features. "You're Raphael's girl? The one that died a bunch of times?"

Rowan scowls. "Only two." She pauses, wincing. "Three. I'm Rowan, and you're poisoned, so stay still, please. What's your name?"

"Bellamy." She sits as ramrod straight as she can. The name makes Rowan wonder after Belanor, but she knows that even if she sent to Sariel's brother, there's no guarantee she'd get an answer through the time distortion. "Wow. Blimey. Didn't know you were, uh, _real._ "

Rowan presses two careful fingertips to each side of Bellamy's temple and murmurs the words to coax her magic to life. _Lesser Restoration_ works not just on the wound, but on the whole body, refreshing and clearing small ailments up to and including the sort of poison a Giant Scorpion possesses. "It tickles," Bellamy says with a wrinkled nose, and Rowan laughs a little. "That means it's working. Stay still if you can, please."

Once she's seen her magic flow through Bellamy's body and the wound returns to its natural color, Rowan moves her hands away and shakes them out a little. "Why would I not be real?"

Bellamy shrugs. "Sounds like something a boss might say to sound cool, you know? Oh, my girlfriend, she's really cool, she can't even die, but she's always off saving the world so we write sappy letters and whatever. Always thought it seemed kind of sad for Raphael to make up a girl like that."

Rowan blinks. It's a lot of information to take in. "Are there many who think this way?"

"Sure." A shrug. "We let him have it, though. Works so bloody hard, you forgive the little things, you know?" She coughs, then winces as it strains the wound in her abdomen. Rowan hurries to examine it. "Not that there's anything to forgive, I reckon. Is it true you came back to life for a kiss? Like a proper princess?"

"I'm no princess," Rowan corrects, deciding to channel Ilmater's blessing to heal her. She tugs the ribbon around her wrist until it wraps over her thumb and places her hand over the wound. "Raphael kissed me during the ritual to bring me back, but my friends helped too. It takes three offerings. Hold still again, please." Bellamy is a good patient, in spite of her questions, and Rowan's silent prayer for healing knits her flesh together before their eyes.

"Thanks," Bellamy says, tugging down her shirt and leaping excitedly to her feet. Rowan reaches out to steady her, though it's unnecessary. "You and your friends, you're really in it, aren't you?" Her tone grows a bit serious for the first time.

"In what?"

"In it. You know, that." She points upward at the sky, and Rowan thinks she understands.

"Tharizdun."

"Yeah, that."

"We are." She's surprised to realize she hasn't thought about this. About how many people don't really know who's working to save them, and about how rumors are stretched the further they travel. She doesn't want to give specifics, knowing there are members of the Key basically everywhere, but she can give hope. Maybe. Hopefully. "We're going to put him down or die trying." She realizes how morbid that sounds and cuts through with a smile. "And since Raphael's girlfriend never dies, I think it will go in our favor, no?"

"Fuck, I hope so."

Given a clean bill of health, Bellamy is free to join her companions, most of which are outside already. Between Rowan and Indigo, it was short work to heal them, and only one remains. Rowan sees Indy go for supplies and stops her with a hand gently on her arm, shaking her head. "Save it," she says. While her and Indigo share many magics, Rowan's is powered by the divine, and doesn't consume simple material components. In a war, waste not, want not is essential.

Her father taught her that, though he never could've imagined she would participate in one.

Indy nods, ever practical, and lets Rowan take over. She uses the remainder of Ilmater's power for the day to bring the boy back to health, the white light of his divine energy shining from beneath her palms. As the glow fades and Rowan comes back to herself, she barely notices the thanks she receives, though Indy notes it for her and offers a reply. Sometimes, becoming a conduit for divine life force takes her out of her body, and she has to remind herself where she is and what she's doing. 

Indy's hand on her arm. Rowan blinks owlishly at her and smiles, almost absently. "Thank you. I have kept a reserve of magic thanks to your help, in case something goes wrong."

Rowan props herself up on a more elevated cot, swinging her legs a bit. "Are you always planning for bad things to happen?"

"Yes." There's no joke to it, and Rowan won't make light of it, either. "That is the best way to keep everyone safe."

She wants to reach out, but isn't sure of her welcome. "And you? You are safe?"

Indigo gives her a strange look. It takes Rowan a moment to recognize it as surprise. "I am. Probably as safe as you are _un_ safe. Where have you been?"

Rowan thinks about waiting until the three of them are back together for this conversation, but since Raphael's already heard about her experiences, they all come tumbling out again. Not in excruciating detail, but it's enough for Indy to take her hand in the middle. It's warm; ever since she killed herself, Rowan's fingertips stay cold.

"You must stop dying," Indy says, deathly serious. "It is not good for your health."

They look at each other a moment. Rowan laughs, and so does Indigo. "I'm glad to come back," Rowan whispers. "It is selfish, but my friends say that's okay... sometimes."

"These things are part of living. It is important when we are surrounded by darkness."

Rowan looks up at her, catching a long lock of silver hair where it hangs forward and curling it around one finger. "Will you help me, then? Raphael and I want to ask you to dinner."

Indigo blinks down at her. "Both of you? Now?"

She shrugs. "Unless you're too busy."

"No," Indy says a little unsteadily. "No, not busy."

"Great!" Rowan hops down from the cot and slides her hand back into Indy's. "Let's go find him." 

Dinner is nothing fanciful, not in the pocket. They sit around a corner table at the tavern, and Indy and Raphael regale her with stories from while she's been away. What they're doing is by no means small or inconsequential, but it's incredibly different from anything she's been doing recently. She doesn't have very many good stories, but she can talk about Roxanna and Jed, about Sariel and Julian being up to something, about tying back Nemo's hair with a red ribbon and tying it in a little bow. She describes Ilmater's map to Valadris, which fascinates them both as people who've heard the tale of the continent's origin countless times. 

It's not all bad, is what Rowan realizes. It can be good. Some things _can_ be good, even when most things seem bad.

It feels like stopping time.

There are pauses where Indigo looks between them, especially when Rowan pretends not to notice. Confusion quietly mars her features in those moments, combined with something Rowan suspects is longing. It's a mirror of what they've both felt for some time, of the way Rowan would take out Raphael's letters and trace the words, then pull out Indigo's letters and do the same. She's known people don't always couple in pairs, but she never thought she would be someone that was looking for that.

Or that if she was, she might be lucky enough to find two people that felt the same.

Yet as the night winds down, Raphael catches her eye. A signal of something new beginning. They both orient themselves facing Indigo, who looks between them, a little unsure of what's going on. 

"We were thinking — "

"We wanted to — "

Rowan and Raphael both stop talking at the same time, looking at each other before bursting into laughter. They're really not very good at this. 

"You two are very scary," Indy accuses, eyes narrowed.

"We wanted," Raphael starts again, "to ask you if you were interested."

Rowan's eyes widen. He's so _bold._ She loves that about him; it matches her better than one might expect, upon first encountering her. She nods, though, backing him up. "In us. Both of us."

Indigo looks between them as though it's some kind of trick.

"Because we are," Rowan blurts out.

Raphael takes Rowan's hand. "Interested, that is. In you."

"In... me."

"Yep." Rowan pops the 'p' like it can pop the bubble of pressure that seems to build between them. Raphael squeezes her hand.

Indy looks between them again. "Really? _Both_ of you?"

"Definitely," Raphael admits. "You don't have to answer now, but... think about it, alright?"

And Indigo... laughs. Rowan hasn't ever actually seen her laugh like this. It glows from the inside out in a different way than Rowan does, but it lights across Rowan's skin as she hears it, entwining Indigo's laughter with Rowan's joy. Maybe someone less optimistic would take it as a bad sign, but Rowan knows that the laughter of someone she cares for is almost always a net positive. She isn't afraid of Indy's answer anymore, not at all.

"I have." Raphael's hand squeezes hers very tightly as Indy stops to breathe. "I have thought about it often. I have had so many thoughts about it I drive myself insane."

Rowan reaches out for her hand. "Well stop thinking about it and make the most of it with us. For real. Yes?"

Indy puts her hand in Rowan's, and takes one of Raphael's in the other. "Yes, okay, I will. Absolutely."

Rowan and Raphael look at each other a moment, silent communication passing between them. Raphael raises an eyebrow, then sighs and nods in Indigo's direction. Rowan slides around the bench until she's on Indigo's side and reaches up, turning her chin with two fingers until they're quite close. Rowan could count Indy's silver eyelashes if she wanted to.

"I want this first kiss," Rowan says, half smiling. "To remember."

Indigo is blushing. Rowan can only see it because she's so very close. "Okay."

Rowan leans in and kisses her, pressing every second, every sensation, into the back of her mind. The brush of Indy's eyelashes on her cheek, her soft, full mouth, her hand as it lands on Rowan's thigh. She feels the toe of a boot covering her own under the table and knows that Raphael is grounding her, anchoring her, and she feels more surrounded by warmth than she has since the last time she felt peace beneath the sun's rays.

It's been a good, long while.

**Author's Note:**

> It was just... such a good place to end it that I didn't want to get nitty gritty, but they talked late into the evening, and did who knows what else. Raphael had a whole 48 hours where Dania and Pilar handled things for him, with Vera's aid. Karo absolutely razzed the shit out of Indy for getting a girlfriend AND a boyfriend in one day, while Lace sincerely congratulated them on finding love and like, not dying, etc. They talked about their lives without thinking about Tharizdun and for about twelve hours, Rowan didn't think about any bad things at all.
> 
> And then she had to return to the world, and while she wouldn't sit back and do nothing, a small part of her always longs for that peace.


End file.
